


Interludes

by Pohadka



Series: The Job Between Here and There [7]
Category: Leverage, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: adding tags as I go, bucky barnes and a cat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-10-10 13:30:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10438737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pohadka/pseuds/Pohadka
Summary: As promised, the side scenes to the "Job Between Here and There" series.  They're in no particular order, so at the beginning of each chapter I'll put a note of where it belongs.





	1. Third Second Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is set immediately after chapter 14 in the [Reparations Job](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7560319/chapters/18978623)

James became aware of the very large, overheated body pressed against his and pulled back. Steve made a soft noise of regret, but let go. James stared at him while Steve watched with dark eyes. But he was calm, mostly. His knuckles were white where he gripped the counter, but he didn’t follow when James took another step back. 

“Yeah, that was pretty intense. Overload?” Steve asked softly. 

He nodded, taking a soft shuddering breath. Memories crested within him, sloshing up against the barriers of his mind, threatening to overwhelm and flood through him. The wall pressed up against his back before he even realized he was moving. But it was exactly what he needed to hang onto.

Steve stayed by the sink, eyes wide. It wasn’t until Malaya’s claws dug into his skin that James remembered where he was. The cat finished her climb and headbutted his cheek, reminding him to wrap his arms around her. “Sorry.” 

“No, hey, it’s okay. I get it. We ah… have a lot of history, doing that.” Steve stayed by the sink. He’d let go of the counter to ball his hands up in the hemline of his awful sweater. Hardison would call it a dad sweater.

The stray thought worked. A laugh bubbled out of him, making Steve looked confused. The memories were still there, but now he had a wall to hold them behind. Later, he’d take them out one by one to look at and enjoy all over again. It was a tremendous gift to have those back. “Stevie?” 

“Yeah?” Hope flickered in those dark eyes, halting the slow sink that his shoulders had been doing.

James held out his hand while cradling Malaya with the other. A new thought entered his mind, that maybe he would have to be patient with Steve too, because it took a long moment before his hand was taken. Only then did he realize it was his left hand, because he felt bereft of the warmth and strength he should be feeling. He felt that loss keenly until Steve stepped closer. James smiled, then turned to lead him through the apartment to his bedroom. He paused once to let Malaya step off onto her tower, then pulled Steve in with him and shut the door behind them.

It was the one place truly ordered. Clothes put away, bed made, nothing left out and hardly any decoration except for the large painting of the sea across from his bed. He found it helped him sleep better to have zero distractions, but with Steve here, he wasn’t planning on sleeping.

“James, we don’t… it’s okay you know.” It was kind of cute, how much Steve wanted to reassure him. He reached up with his right hand, his warm fingers to touch Steve’s dry lips before moving on to tug the knit hat off his hair. It was brown, darker than he remembered, but that was good. Contrast helped him sort things out. 

Like the itch of the beard as he kissed Steve again. It was a cautious kiss, learning the shape of Steve’s mouth and how it moved against his lips, then it shifted into something deeper. It left him hungry enough to let his body take over. The heat of Steve pressing against him was back, but while it was familiar enough to threaten more memories to break free, it wasn’t overwhelmingly so. He broke the kiss to whisper, “Jesus, how hot do you run?”

Steve was surprised enough to answer. “On average, about two degrees higher than normal.” Then he smiled sheepishly. “You liked it, once.” 

James smiled, ducking his head and letting his hand rest lightly against Steve’s throat, his thumb over the pulse point. “Was nice, I think. Not having to worry.”

“I think I’ve gotten a taste of what you went through, before all that.” Steve ducked his head too, pressing his forehead against James. It felt nice. “I’m sorry I was such a pain about it then.” 

“No you’re not. That stubbornness is what kept you alive, I think.” 

Steve shook his head lightly. “No. You did. I couldn’t die and let you think you failed.” 

James whispered softly. “But I did. I fell… and you died anyways.” 

One warm hand wrapped around his and pressed it tighter against the heat of that solid throat. “I didn’t die. I’m here. We’re here. Maybe, maybe we have a chance to just… start over?”

Isn’t that why he was here in Seattle? Learning to be a new person in this new world? Didn’t hurt to have Stevie there anymore. Felt good, actually.

“Yeah.” James moved, lifting his head and making Steve move his so they could kiss again. Soft, slow. “Yeah.”


	2. Bushwick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after the main fic, while settling back into New York City. Steve's been busy too.

“So you’ve got your place upstate. You’ve got that fantastic apartment in Stark’s tower, complete with Jarvis. But you’re buying this?” James looked at the building across the street. It was a squat three story building in Bushwick, with red brick on the first level, along with a closed shop of some sort, then streaky and peeling beige clapboard for the upper two levels. “When did you get to be so rich?” He looked around, evaluating the area. It was a quiet neighborhood, and security was really subtle. You had to know that the woman reading a book in a window seat was part of a Shield surveillance team. Cameras were really well hidden too, ranging from the bottom of a bird feeder to the top of the stop signs on the corner. 

Steve shook his head, then started across the street. “Fury strong armed some senator into introducing a bill that got me all my back pay for the years on ice. Then Miss Potts put it in some sort of investment portfolio.” Steve snorted before grinning at James. “That woman does know how to handle money.” 

“Ahh, so she’s your Hardison?” That made sense. Steve in his memories was crap at saving money. Always giving it to someone he thought needed it more.

“No, she’s Stark’s Hardison. And probably his Eliot too.” Those oversize shoulders shrugged before being used to nudge the door to the stairs open. “Need to grease that.” 

The stairwell inside led to all three levels, but Steve went up one floor to the middle level. It already showed signs of both remodeling and someone living in it. The one clean space was in the corner, boasting a small computer desk with a simple laptop next to a table piled high with paint tubes, stacked canvases next to an empty easel, and cups filled with paint brushes. James took a moment to look at Steve for permission. Once granted, he made a beeline for the works currently drying on the rack below the table.

“I plan to extend this corner. Open up the wall for more windows and more light. Tony’s already busy making the glass and retractable shield for it.” James looked up from a character study of Malaya at the pinched tone of Steve’s words. 

“Not really a fan of busy bodies?” He laughed at the roll of Steve’s eyes, layers of various memories of ‘Bucky!’ being yelled at him. “Gee, that almost sounds familiar.” 

“You’re handling it though.” Steve tapped at his ear, then cocked his head in question.

James nodded, then pulled the earwig out. “You get used to it. Or at least, I did.” He held it up to Steve’s ear to hear Hardison and Eliot arguing about basketball vs hockey while Parker was snoring. 

“And they’re always like that?” Steve laughed softly as James put the wig back in his ear. 

“Yeah. It was really helpful at first. Kept reminding me where I was and helped separate what was in my head and what wasn’t.” He shrugged, then turned to look around. “Gimme a tour?” 

“Yeah, absolutely. This is just,” Steve paused, waving around the room. “It’s going to be both workroom and living room. I knocked out a couple walls to open it up, or else I’d keep bumping into them.” His fingers found their way into James, squeezing gently before leading him upstairs.

Only one room upstairs was occupied. It had just a bed and a set of suitcases, but a very familiar shield leaned against the wall next to the door. “Gee Rogers, reliving the thirties again?” 

A delighted laugh broke out of Steve as he pulled James close. He took that as permission to press his nose against Steve’s neck, breathing in the smell of dust, sweat, oil, pigment, and human that was so uniquely Steve. “No, I’m just waiting until every thing’s done before moving the rest of my stuff in.” 

“Yeah okay. Show me the rest?” 

One room was empty, but the third… the third had a cat tree in it. A table with a drop cloth over it and interesting shapes underneath it. “I thought maybe, you could have a room here, for you and Malaya, when you need your space?” Steve stayed at the door jam, looking in bashfully as he watched James investigate the table. “I asked Tony for some interesting gear, based off what the two of you have been talking about.”

James swallowed, blinking away the tears that sprang up. Very carefully, he pulled the earwig out and put it on the cat tree before pushing back against Steve to bury his face against his shoulder. Strong arms wrapped him up tight, but nothing verbal, just letting him adjust at his own pace. Letting him drift.

He came back to himself curled up against Steve’s chest, ear against ribs to hear the rumble of Steve’s voice as he describes the first floor. “It used to be a grocery store, but I don’t think I’m made for that. Rebecca’s cousin, Steven Proctor, he’s got some great ideas about turning it into gallery space for neighborhood kids or teaching space or something.” Steve paused, then laughed. “At one point, he wanted to make it a gallery of my work, but I shot that down pretty fast. I don’t need more fame at this point.”

“But I like your art. You don’t want to share it?” James found himself asking.

Steve paused, and James felt him shift a bit to look down. The fingers stroking his hair slowed down a bit in surprise, then continued. “I thought about it. Maybe under a different name some day. Right now, I want it to be personal and I don’t like putting my heart out for everyone to see.”

James smiled at that, arm tightening around Steve’s waist. “No, you just crash things into the Potomac as a declaration of your feelings.” 

Steve snorted again. “No, that was me throwing a hissy fit.” Then he said softer, “I go where you go, now.” 

James thought for a moment, then squeezed Steve even tighter. He’d been stretched out on his right, so his left arm could squeeze tight enough to make even Captain America wheeze. 

“Maybe it’s a good thing I’m sticking around, huh?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think it is.” They fell silent again, then Steve started describing the remodeling he wanted to do. 

James listened, comforted by this becoming familiar. He liked it. Although Steve was real cute if he thought he’d be able to keep Shield, Stark, and Leverage from setting up surveillance everywhere. 

James didn’t mention that. It could be dealt with later. Not on a lazy Sunday when they were comfortable and happy. Happy is always good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof.. three months later I come back with another little snippet for you. I didn't mean to be so quiet! I just let the brain (and wrist) have a break for the most part. But this snippet jumped in my head and it was too sweet not to share. 
> 
> I've set up a Tumblr page for my fic ramblings, if you're interested. Poehadka.tumblr.com. Otherwise, my main Tumblr blog is at Gryphye.tumblr.com, if you're bored enough. :)


End file.
